


See for Yourself

by DevilOfWire



Series: DevilOfWire's Kinktober 2020 [19]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cock Slut, Cockwarming, Crossdressing, Crying, Established Relationship, Feminization, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Kinktober 2020, Love/Hate, M/M, Mirror Sex, Mute Red, No Dialogue, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Top Green, Wet & Messy, bottom red, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilOfWire/pseuds/DevilOfWire
Summary: 19. Hate sex | Cockwarming | Mirror sexSometimes, you just need to take a step back and really look at yourself in the mirror.Getting fucked by your hot-headed rival, while you’re forced to wear girl’s clothes, and loving it the entire time, in your own fucked-up way, that is.
Relationships: Ookido Green | Blue Oak/Red
Series: DevilOfWire's Kinktober 2020 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950421
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	See for Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> **IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 DO _NOT_ READ.**
> 
> I figured this time I’d write some mute Red, cause I read a really cool doujinshi where Red was selectively mute, and that complicated the story quite a bit! So whether he’s actually mute or just chooses not to speak in this particular fic, idk, up to you, I guess! Either way, that lack of communication definitely will complicate things here, too… in the best way :D

Red doesn’t understand why Green has to be like this.

What does he mean by that, specifically? Well, he could mean many things, so even he isn’t entirely sure.

Perhaps he means his initial obsession that had been a staple of both of their lives, as long as they’d been young children, just beginning to be trusted with Pokémon and the dangers of the world outside their small town.

Perhaps he means how that obsession always seemed to border between jealousy and underlying hatred, and something like intense admiration, although Green would never admit it, and Red, of course, would never bring it up.

Perhaps he means how even after Red proved to the world, even despite his young age, that he was the best trainer in all of Kanto, Green was still, of course, obsessed with him. But as the seasons accumulated into years, and Red then searched far and wide in the land to attempt to identify and then capture every Pokémon he possibly could, that obsession morphed.

Perhaps he means that change, specifically. Probably.

Because that obsession, fascination, fixation, whatever you want to call it, by Green and unto Red, became muddied. Corrupted. Deepened and darkened with new, more complex feelings, brought on by changes not at all dissimilar to the way a caterpie morphs slowly into an adult butterfree, that odd transitory period in the middle included, especially.

At first, it was actually rather beneficial to Red. Because it meant that, for a short time, the teasing trickled down until it stopped entirely. But sure enough, just a few more months as they were whittled by the turbulent ups and downs of puberty, and he was right back to harassing him and making his life a living hell. But now it wasn’t just mindless entertainment.

No, there was a point to it. An end goal. Even if Green didn’t, couldn’t know it at the time, there was no reason behind his apparent inability to leave his neighbour alone.

And as the years passed by in a flurry of adventure and travelling like Red had never dreamed of—Green always one step behind, or ahead, somehow—eventually, it all came to a head.

Over the decade or so that it had been since he originally set foot out of Pallet Town, the two had become something of friends—well, it was hard to put a term on it, really—as the constant bullying grew stale, and Green grew smarter about the ways he’d torment the region’s champion.

Green would defend himself by saying, what else was he to do? Sure, Pokémon were fun and all, but at the end of a long day, he lacked the satisfaction from the mere act of finding and entrapping rare creatures, a restlessness in him that remained no matter how many legendaries he saw.

A restlessness that could only be fulfilled by stalking Red, apparently.

But no matter how unsound his logic, Green had done it anyway. And one way or another, he somehow got Red out of the wild thicket of forests or across heated savannahs in order to just take a day off, roam around one of the largest cities their fair region had to offer, just loafing around, nowhere to go, nothing to do.

Red realized far too late how it was like a date, that day, somehow the exact minute that Green had finally weasled up the courage to just come out and kiss him.

It certainly wasn’t expected. Not in his wildest dreams.

But nor was it entirely unwanted.

Red had always been a very one-track mind kind of person, even he could admit that. But when it came to Green... he found that more and more, he didn’t know what to think of him.

So when Green asked him if that was alright—what he’d just done, Red paused.

But then he nodded.

And maybe, in retrospect, he shouldn’t have.

Perhaps he should have shook his head, watched Green’s face fall, but knowing that he’d get over it eventually. That surely, there was something out there that would one day become his new obsession, take Red’s place in his twisted heart, his mind.

Because Green instantly took that nod, grinned, and ran with it all the way to the corner’s of the universe, pretty much.

As Red thinks back, the events blur together from then on. They were adults, so they did adult things. That’s how it should be, at least, he imagines. Had drinks both fancy and just for the mind-altering effects of them, visited places no longer coincidentally close to the other’s arrival, but purposefully, together, sometimes even holding hands.

Even more scandalous than that, though, was the sex, of course.

Plenty of sex. Plenty and plenty and plenty of sex...

Again, Red had never really thought too hard about that kind of thing in all his life, leading up to when Green began to hint at it more and more—Red staying silent as ever, but sometimes nodding for positive, sometimes shaking for negative, and that’s all the communication his talkative rival needed.

But Green never outright did anything sexual, not at first. But Red found that, the more that Green infected his mind with it, the more that he became... interested in the idea.

Yes, quite interested.

Until he was the one who took the initiative, thankful for Green’s patience, but also at that point irritated that  _ this _ of all things was something he’d be so shy about. And so, while they were making out, as they usually did as an apparent evening routine before bed, he forced Green’s hand down to between his legs, already aching hard.

One thing led to another, and ta-da, his first mutual hand job experience. It was quite nice, and much different to his own hand, he’ll admit.

And from then on, over the course of just a few months, Green and him worked together with more body language than words, to go from one base to the next. After numerous hand jobs, it became blow jobs. All sorts of different positions of them, including the infamous “69”, although Green was just a little too much taller than him to make that one a go-to.

Then it was more experimental things. Frotting, thigh fucking, fingering. Red never thought words that could make him blush and fluster to the point of barely functioning, could also be so amazing. Green, of course, knew it all along.

And after that, on one special, golden sunset that he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget, they were on a beach, unoccupied and far from the nearest civilization, but as good as any lauded public tourist destination, anyway.

And as cliché and girly as it might be, that’s the exact spot, moment, that they got to the final base: anal. Such an intimidating word—the phrase: losing one’s virginity not helping, either—but really, it wasn’t that hard. It hurt a little, for sure, but after that, it was pure bliss. Perhaps it was just the quiet sounds of the ocean, the distant noises of creatures rustling in grass, uncaring about them or their act of hedonism.

But Red learned from experience after that, that that certainly wasn’t it.

It felt fantastic every time, so fantastic that he almost wondered how it felt just  _ that _ good.

It certainly shouldn’t feel that good, should it? To be doing something as debauched as not partaking in a sexual act with another man—someone who used to despise him, and make no effort in hiding it, no less—but literally taking his cock inside of his hole, a poor mimicry of a vagina itself, all while he had a perfectly working cock that remained ignored.

It was like laughing in the face of God, to misuse the tools given to himself and the two sexes, preferring to corrupt the simple biological need of procreation, turn it into a purely leisurely activity.

Perhaps leisurely is too light a word, though. Because if Green became anything after the first few times they fucked, it was downright, unadulterated, evil.

Perhaps he could read Red’s mind, because he certainly didn’t voice his thoughts. Or maybe Green somehow just coincidentally thought it himself. Either way, he got the concept that Red was—in such an awful, shameful way—essentially, becoming a girl, when he fucked him.

Literally.

So, all that recounting and exposition is to say:

Red doesn’t understand why Green has to be like this.

Forcing him to not only shop for clothes straight from the women’s sections of some of the busiest stores he’s ever seen, not only try them on, so he can take pictures for “future reference”, but fucking buy them, with his own coins.

Why he has to buy  _ even more _ girl’s clothes at all, when he’s already wearing some, already has plenty more where that’s from in his travel bag, hidden under old, worn towels, so hopefully no one will ever see them.

Why he has to then get his nails done, a full-on manicure, for half an hour, sitting silently and glaring at Green, who merely laughs, talking about how his “girlfriend” is a bit on the quiet side, yes, but he just loved “her” all the more for that.

Why he has to snicker to himself the entire flight on their pidgeottos or whatever home, telling jokes although Red doesn’t want to hear a single bit of it.

Why he doesn’t even allow him to get undressed, not even take the damn uncomfortable stiletto heels off his sore feet, instead forcing him, pulling him to their bedroom in the condo they were currently renting, stopping only when they get to the big, square mirror, which he’d moved right to the foot of their bed the moment he saw it at the end of the adjacent hallway.

But then again, Red knows why.

It’s because Green is a fucking pervert, in every sense of the word. Hell, one of his favourite activities is fucking Red in a desk chair or right before they sat down to eat, that way he could stay buried inside of him for as long as he wanted. If that doesn’t exemplify exactly what Red means, he doesn’t know what will.

But Green merely chuckles, as he sees how red-faced and scowling his boyf-”girlfriend”—hah—is.

It’s because Red, is also, a fucking pervert.

He’s just a little less obvious about it.

So he doesn’t feel bad at all—okay, maybe just a little—as he continues his relentless onslaught of teases, recounting what had happened only half an hour ago, although he was sure it was seared into Red’s mind already.

Specifically, he points out how he, too, liked the stuff that Red got from the clothing stores. Dresses and over-sized t-shirts, skirts and socks, for the most part. Merely with a pointed glare into the mirror, Red might be trying to excuse himself by saying that it was because Green  _ forced _ him to get all that shit, but Green dismisses that without it ever even being aired, saying aloud that he’s seen the way Red carefully rummages through the racks, the way he considers every pattern, every textile.

If anything, Green’s just giving him the excuse to wear women’s clothing, as he obviously, secretly wants to!

Red, of course, has nothing to say to that. But the way that he stomps a high heel, crossing his arms, and looks to the side, it’s clear he’s getting really mad.

But that blush that Green grabs into his large hand, as he twists Red’s face up to look into his, gives it all away. He’s right. Even if Red won’t admit it, he’s totally right, that Red gets off on this, too.

Green doesn’t even need to speak to announce his proof loud and proud, all he has to do is slide his other hand down the impression of Red’s thin waist, past the fluffy petticoat of his short skirt, and sure enough, there’s his cock. Hard, twitching, and obviously, undeniably, male.

He rubs his warm fingers on Red’s prick once, twice, just enough to make his knees buckle inward, a breathy sound from between his lips that are almost always so silent.

But he can’t just let Red cum like this, so quickly! So he takes his fingers away, licking them clean as Red can only stare up at him, mouth slightly agape but making absolutely no noise, just watching as he laps up his thin pre-cum like a delicacy.

With the slightest push and pull, Green turns Red’s attention to the mirror. So he can see for himself, in the pulses of pleasure still remaining from what stimulation to his cock that Green gave him, how downright shameful he looks.

Entire body blushing, face especially so with makeup, his lean frame with curves in all the right places, accentuated further by the peppy clothes of the tight blouse and the lacy corset flowing to the skirt, thigh-highs striped white and red, nails matching with the iconic Pokéball design all girls fawn over, he gets what Green means.

Just a wig and tits, Green whispers into his ear then, and that’s all he’d need to fool anyone, even his own damn mother, into thinking he was nothing more than a typical, cute girl.

Red tries to shake his head, but Green’s hand is still cupping his jaw, forcing him to stare directly at himself in the mirror, take in every angle, every colour, every detail, with absolutely nowhere to go.

Even as he takes a fistful of Red’s dark hair and drags him downward—not strong enough to hurt, but just enough to remind him that it easily could—he keeps him facing slightly to the mirror, tells him to keep his eyes on it, when he could even keep them open, that is. A dark chuckle.

So Red is forced to watch himself in the mirror, as he fumbles with the flipped image of it, to undo the man’s belt, pop the button, unzip his fly. His fingers horrifically girlish, and all it took was a little bit of nail polish.

And as he pulls a huge, veiny erection from Green’s briefs, brushing right against his cheek as he winces, it’s heady. Just how much he looks like a girl in a porn video, about to get her pretty lipstick smeared by the huge cock she was about to take into her mouth.

With a slight tug of his hair, Red does just that. The salty taste of pre-cum washing over his tongue at the same time Green’s groan of deep pleasure does, watching every last bit of it disappear into the pink warmth of his mouth, before being revealed again like some depraved kind of magic trick.

Green snickers, from his better vantage and the rules he set out for Red not applying to himself, switching from looking in the mirror for a more objective view, and then straight down to the whore taking every last inch of his cock, up until he’s deep-throating him to his heavy balls, all of it somehow in his impressive little throat.

Hey, he might not talk much, but he still has a talented mouth, Green can say that.

But he himself has little patience, so after getting over the spectacle of Red taking his entire cock into his mouth, seeming terrified at the sight of the “girl” in the mirror that was himself, Green says fuck it. And he uses his fingers curled through Red’s head of hair to force him away and then immediately back down on his cock, bucking his hips into the warmth at the same time.

Again, it’s not too fast, nor painful, but it is, definitely, uncomfortable.

If anything, it’s more so the mere fact that Green would do something as awful as that in the first place—yank him down to deep-throat his entire cock by the hair—that’s the goal, here.

It certainly works for Green, as he repeats the action, eyes closing in the sheer bliss of a wet, warm mouth wrapped around his cock, the power in being able to control Red’s every movement like he was literally nothing more than a cumdoll for his cock.

And as tears inevitably spring to Red’s eyes as he can only choke, sputter, try to resist his gag reflex as he claws at Green’s jeans uselessly, he can still see himself in the mirror. Only able to sit there on his ass peeking out of the pleated skirt, entire body moving back and forth as he’s pulled by the hair by a muscular forearm, made into nothing more than a sex toy for a man, an  _ actual _ man.

While he, also a man, despite all appearances and context, merely writhes and aches, prick leaking semen into his panties. Watching himself get throat-fucked in the huge mirror, absolutely hating how he absolutely loves every second of it.

Green rips Red off just a few thrusts away from cumming, wanting to savour his orgasm for the final act he has planned. It allows Red the blessed opportunity to gasp in air, before heaving pure oxygen, doubling over, blinking streams of tears from his irritated eyes.

But not a second later, he feels himself being pushed and pulled again. Blinded by his own mascara-running tears, he can only go with it, allowing himself to be shoved belly down against the wooden floor, ass yanked up by fingers gripping hard enough to bruise.

As Green pants with his own heavy breaths, he would love nothing more than to just bury himself in Red’s hole, revealed as he pushes the thong of his panties out of the way of it. It’s still glistening and loose from before their little shopping spree, when Green fucked him in the ass, just a little quickie to make his legs and ass ache, a convenient reminder of what he’d done just a little bit ago over the next few hours, where he’d be surrounded by a crowd of people all staring at him, none the wiser.

Yeah, even Green will admit sometimes, he is an asshole.

Ah, and he would love to fuck Red’s. But first, he wants to do something else, just a little more, before he breeds him for the final time that evening.

So he pushes one arm down until it brushes along Red’s hair, then he pulls on it again, just so he’ll be forced to face to the side. He tells him to open his eyes, and to the best of his ability, Red does so. Eyes stinging red and face burning hot at the position he was forced in, he still manages to make out the blurred lines and shapes of his own body—the two of them perpendicular in a classic doggy-style form, that way Red could see as much of himself being violated as possible, all while also being pressed down against the dirty floor like a wild animal.

Green praises him for obeying, words that send liquid heat straight to Red’s belly despite his better judgments. He was such a crying, pathetic mess, he’d take anything he could get, at this point.

Then calloused fingers are reaching back, first ruffling over his skirt, then pushing it up to hang over his waist, exposing the bright, pale roundness of his ass for them both to stare at, one with pure eagerness, the other in some of the worst embarrassment he’d felt in his entire damn life.

Green tries to cast his worries aside, leaning down to stare at Red’s face in the mirror with a patronizing look, voice, saying that it was almost unfair, how he had the best ass of any guy—almost any girl, for that matter—that he’d ever seen. Including the porn magazines.

He slides his hands over the soft expanse of the flesh before him for a while, tutting at the one thing that gave Red away for the little liar that he was, his small, leaking package. Green runs a singular finger down its length, from taint to the end of his cock head, just to make him whine like he was dying, and then goes right back to ignoring it.

He comments on the thigh highs and just how  _ good _ they make his legs look, curving his hands around his upper thighs, letting Red feel the hot ache of pure want when those damned fingers wrapped around to the inside, so close to actually touching something of value.

And after a few minutes of ass and thigh worship, Green finally sits up. He grins to the mirror as he raises his hips, the hard jut of his cock sticking out like a sore thumb compared to the soft, delicate look of Red’s fallen form.

Speaking of Red, he can only watch through slits, desperately wanting but not daring to hide his eyes, as that cock is brought down against his ass, for a few thrusts just sliding along his crack, between the round globes of his cheeks and over his winking hole in one last act of torture.

And then, finally, Green gets bored.

And in one smooth motion, as though he was simply going to frot against Red’s beautiful ass once more, he instead dips a little lower, and sinks right inside of him.

Such tight, warm heat, enveloping him completely, as he takes no time to sink himself all the way to his balls, grunting curses against Red’s face.

Red, who throws his head back in a loud moan, entire body crying out in awful, confusing, amazing pleasure as he’s fucking finally penetrated, filled to the brim with glorious, hard, throbbing cock.

He himself almost forgets his own prick, as Green instantly goes for a brutal, fast pace, reaching down wherever he can, so he pins Red to the floor by his waist and shoulders as much as he uses them for leverage to fuck into him harder.

And somehow, despite the mind-numbing, toe-curling, disgustingly heavenly pleasure, Red manages to squeeze his eyes open just the smallest amount.

So he can watch as another man’s impossibly hard, desperate cock fucks in and out of his pink, gaping hole. Not even bothering to move his panties out of the way, nor his skirt, nor any of his other clothes, which all slide back and forth with the force of Green’s thrusts, as he fucks him like his very life depends on it.

And right at the top of all of it, he sees his own face in the mirror. Meets his own eyes, filled with tears of pain and discomfort, every feature contorted into what could only be described as immense shame and humiliation.

And yet, despite all of that, despite how fucked up and embarrassing and horrifying that this was happening to him,  _ him, _ the Kanto champion, best trainer in perhaps the entire world, one so revered and reviled he almost constantly had to fill out autographs if people could recognize him as a man-

He fucking loves it all.

He cries out enough to rival a scream as he cums at the exact same time Green does, ejaculating right into his panties, some dribbling onto the floorboards, as he feels himself filled with cum. So many rounds that it immediately leaks down his thighs, in thick rivulets of pure seed.

One last time, he’s moved. But this time, it’s much gentler, with a feeling behind it that is almost clingy, Green panting into his ear as he catches his breath and endlessly praises him at the same time.

Every part of it is good. The set up, the actual fucking, but the aftercare might be his favourite.

And even though he’s still looking in the mirror, still blushing at just how ridiculous he looks in a cum-stained skirt and a blouse slipped off to one side so it exposes his nipple to the air, he’s happy.

Maybe happier than he ever is. Catching Pokémon, logging them in his Pokédex, bringing them back to Professor Oak. Battling a legendary, whittling it down, hearing the click of the Pokéball as it’s finally claimed as his, and nobody else’s. Travelling every climate the region had to offer, walking along a quiet beach at sunset, sleeping in with a cup of hot cocoa while a blizzard raged outside.

Don’t get him wrong, they were all lovely, but...

Here, in Green’s tight embrace, still impaled on his cock twitching in post-orgasm, secretly hoping it could stay like that for forever, drinking in all the words he seemingly could endlessly chatter, saying all that needed to be said...

Now, that was what he really lived for.

**Author's Note:**

> * * *
> 
> _Check me out for updates and art and stuff! <3 _
> 
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>   * _[NSFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/DevilOfWireNSFW)  
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>   * _[SFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/DevilOfWire)  
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>   * _[SFW Tumblr](https://devilofwire.tumblr.com/)  
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> 
> __
> 
> * * *
> 
> This is quite like the other Red/Green thing I wrote, but with a little more plot and Red is mute here... But other than that, they’re pretty much the same I must admit, lol. Anyway, tyvm for reading! <3


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